


Sexiled

by mrsbonniemellark



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2018-07-25 14:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7536808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsbonniemellark/pseuds/mrsbonniemellark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kicked out of her dorm room for the night, Katniss turns to Peeta for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was first posted on my tumblr six months ago. Thanks for reading! Come follow me on tumblr at safeinpeetasarms :)

Peeta answers the door in his boxers, his sleepy eyes widening when he sees me. “Katniss…?” **  
**

“I need to sleep in your room tonight,” I say, pushing past him into the room.

He shuts the door and turns to me, a bemused look on his face. “What? Why?”

“Because our stupid roommates sexiled me from my room,” I say. I toss my pillow on Finnick’s bed and sit down on it heavily. “Finnick said I could sleep here. And I have a midterm at eight in the morning, so I’m not taking no for an answer here.”

“Okay,” Peeta says. He grabs a white tee from his closet and pulls it on. “You might not want to sleep in Finnick’s bed though because he hasn’t washed his sheets since the start of the semester.”

“What?! Gross!” I cry, leaping off the bed and grabbing my pillow. Knowing that Annie and Finnick spend most of their midnight trysts here, there’s no way in hell I can sleep there.  “What do I do now?”

I eye the floor, but I know from personal experience that it’s like sleeping on cement. And I don’t have any blankets with me either.

Peeta clears his throat. “You can sleep in _my_ bed with me.”

“How do I know _your_ sheets are clean?” I say, raising my eyebrows at him.

“It just so happens that I spilled Ramen on them earlier and had to throw them in the washer right away, so they’re fresh from the dryer,” he says with a smile.

“Well…okay,” I say. “I don’t know how we’re both going to fit though.”

Peeta holds out his hand for my pillow and I pass it over, watching curiously as he turns our pillows vertically and lays them side by side. He climbs into bed, situating himself on his side against the wall, and gestures for me to join him.

I do, resting my head on Peeta’s right arm and he wraps his left around me. Even lying on our sides the way we are, it’s a tight squeeze, what with Peeta’s stocky frame and the small twin bed, so I use the excuse to scoot back a little closer. His arm squeezes me to him in response and I find myself relaxing in a way that I haven’t in years.

“Goodnight, Katniss,” Peeta says. I feel his warm breath against my ear and I shiver. Peeta moves the comforter up to cover my shoulder and I blush, realizing he must think I was shivering from cold.

“Goodnight,” I whisper.

It’s still dark outside when my alarm goes off, waking us both. I scramble out of bed to find my phone where I left it on Peeta’s desk, silencing the alarm with a swipe of my finger.

“Good morning,” Peeta says, getting out of bed. He strides over to his closet, pulling off his shirt.

“Morning,” I say, suddenly speechless. “Thanks for letting me sleep here last night.”

“Any time,” he says, smiling. “We have to stick together.”

“What?”

“You know, because our roommates keep sexiling us. You’re always welcome here.” He pulls on a new shirt that I recognize as one he wears frequently to the gym, and realize that’s where he must be headed so early in the morning.

“Thanks. You’re always welcome in my room too,” I say. My heart speeds up a little, but I ignore it. 

“I have to get going to my midterm.”

“Of course. Good luck!” Peeta says.

“Thanks. See you later, Peeta,” I say, heading out the door.

I knock loudly before entering my room, getting ready for the day as quickly as possible while avoiding looking at Annie’s side of the room.

“Good luck on your midterm, Katniss!” Annie says and Finnick chimes in an agreement.

Three hours. That’s the time limit on my midterm and I use every single minute. I walk out in a daze, too exhausted to think straight.

Annie’s sitting in the corner table of the dining hall when I find her, and she’s not alone. Finnick and Peeta are there too. It’s not unusual for them to join us, but after last night...My heart speeds up as I reach the table.

Peeta is in a different outfit now, a textbook on the table beside him indicating that he’s either coming from or going to class. He smiles when he sees me, his blue eyes lighting up. I’m aware of his body in a way that I wasn’t before. It’s too easy now to look at his arms and remember the feel of them around me. How last night was the easiest I’ve slept in years. How the ashy blond waves that fall across his forehead felt against my shoulder and the rise and fall of his chest against my back as he snored lightly.

Annie shoots me knowing smiles all through lunch and under different circumstances I’d still be mad at her, but I can’t seem to be angry about anything that happened last night. 

I find myself hoping that Annie sexiles me again soon…

I get my wish a couple days later.


	2. Chapter 2

Peeta doesn’t look surprised to see me when he answers the door this time.  


“They kicked me out again,” I say, handing him a cheese Danish I stole from the dining hall.

“I figured something was going to happen tonight,” Peeta says, taking the pastry and letting me into the room, “what with the way Finnick was acting earlier. We should really coordinate whose room they use.” 

“Well, it's definitely not going to be your room until Finnick washes his sheets,” I say, setting my toiletry bag on the floor and sitting down on Peeta’s bed.

Peeta laughs, shutting the door and sitting down beside me. “He’ll probably take them home to wash at Thanksgiving.” 

“That's still a month away!”

“Speaking of which, you're going home for Thanksgiving, right?” he asks, ripping the pastry in two and handing me the bigger half. 

“Of course,” I say, accepting it. “Why?”

“I was just thinking you could get a ride with me,” he says, his eyes staring intently into mine, “if you wanted. I have a car here and it's no problem, really, we live in the same town.”

It’s true. We went to the same high school together, the same elementary school even. We'd just never really spoken until we ended up going to the same college and living on the same floor of the same residence hall. Since we’d discovered our sophomore roommates were together. 

“Ok. Yeah. That sounds...perfect. Thank you,” I say. I focus intently on the pastry in my hand, taking a bite far too big and moaning as the cream cheese fills my mouth. 

“You should try the Danishes my family makes. They’re much better than these,” Peeta says, taking a bite. 

“Peeta!” I cry in mock alarm. “You can’t talk like that _in front of_ the dining hall Danish! You’ll hurt its feelings! It’d be like telling me some other girl is prettier or scowls better than me.”

“My apologies, Lady Katniss,” Peeta says in the same playful tone I was using. “I had no idea this lovely Danish was a friend of yours. It is quite delightful, if I must say so. And in regard to your beauty,” he continues, his voice serious now, “I fear that even a scowl cannot hide how much you outshine all the others.”

For a moment I sit there, stunned, staring at the depth in his eyes and then I lean forward and kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” I whisper.

His cheeks are adorably pink and I can tell from the warmth in my face that I’m blushing too. 

Peeta clears his throat. “Want to watch Friends? I’ve been rewatching it on Netflix and I’m almost to the fifth season.” 

“Sure,” I say. He grabs his laptop off his desk, situating it on top of our knees. 

About halfway through the first episode, Peeta reaches out and grabs my hand. It’s awkward at first, as it takes me a second to realize what he’s doing, and then… Peeta’s large, warm hand engulfs mine. My heart speeds up. I don’t dare look at him. I fix my eyes on the laptop screen but I can see in its reflection that he’s smiling. 

Going to bed is different tonight. Before, we’d both been asleep and after Annie kicked me out, we simply went back to sleep...together. 

Tonight, we were hanging out. And now, we’re brushing our teeth side by side. I’m technically not allowed in the boys’ restroom on our floor but it’s late on a Friday night, there’s no one here to care. 

When Peeta settles in on his side near the wall like last time and gestures for me to join him, I push him onto his back and cuddle close to his side, resting my head on his chest and entwining our legs together. He makes a small noise of protest in the back of his throat at first, but it quickly turns into a soft sigh. 

“Goodnight, Katniss,” Peeta says. I echo the sentiment sleepily into his chest and he chuckles.

It slowly becomes a regular occurrence. Annie and Finnick kick me out of my room a few nights a week and I go and stay with Peeta. The slow and steady rhythm of his heart has become one of my favorite sounds in the world.

Our relationship leaks into other parts of our lives as well. Before, we’d just see each other when we were hanging out with Annie and Finnick, but now, we go to the library to study together, he visits me at the café on campus when I have to work, and we even go to the gym together.

“So are you and Peeta together now?” Annie asks me one day when we’re both in our room for once.

“No. What gave you that idea?” I say. 

“Um…that you guys act like a couple?” she says, looking at me as if to say “duh.”

“What?” I say, shocked. 

“Like the hand holding thing. Why do you guys do that if you’re not a couple?”

“Friends can hold hands,” I say. It’s true, ever since that first night, we’ve been holding hands more…but that doesn’t mean we’re together.

“Have you ever held hands with any of your other friends?” she asks, raising her eyebrows at me.

“Well…no,” I admit. 

“Well then there you go.”

  


“Hey, Peeta?” I ask when we’re studying in his room that night. He’s sitting at his desk, typing something on his laptop and looking far too cute in his reading glasses, while I’m perched on his bed with a pile of textbooks I’m supposed to be reading next to me. I can’t focus though, not with Annie’s words running through my mind.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t stop his typing, and I almost feel bad for interrupting him like this, but I can’t put it off a moment longer.

“Am I your girlfriend?” There. I said it. The words are out. For a moment, I wish I could take them back, but I make myself face them.

“What?” He looks up from his laptop in surprise, his eyes wide. “What brought this on?”

“Just something Annie said earlier…” I drop his gaze and train my eyes on the blue and green checkered print of Peeta’s comforter.

“Do you _want_ to be my girlfriend?” he asks. There’s no indication of his own feelings in his tone, just a question of mine. 

“Yes,” I whisper. That’s at the very heart of it, isn’t it? That I wish he were mine to hold and to love. That our nightly visits weren’t dependent on necessity. That his hand in mine meant more than friendship. That I could feel his lips move against my own. 

“Well then okay,” Peeta says. He comes over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders so I look up at him. His glasses sit adorably low on his nose and I push them up for him.

He smiles at me and warmth rushes through me until I am brimming with it. I kiss him and he sighs. He kisses me and I smile. We kiss and kiss and kiss, our lips discovering and learning each other and never wanting to part for long. 

His hands glide down my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s only when my head hits the pillows and there's a textbook digging into my back that I remember we’re supposed to be studying. I mention it to Peeta and he groans. 

“Don’t worry,” I say, smiling. “We can kiss some more later.” My heart beats faster at the thought of _more_ kissing. 

“I’ll have to take you up on that,” Peeta says. He kisses me once more and goes back to his desk. 

It’s hard to focus after that, but knowing that we can go back to kissing when we’re done is a real motivator. It doesn’t stop us from looking over at each other and grinning every few seconds, but it helps. 

I love the way the light from his desk lamp reflects off his glasses and his ashy blond hair. I love the way he bites his lip and his brow wrinkles when he’s thinking really hard. I love the way his muscles ripple in his biceps when he stretches. I love the way he laughs when he catches me staring and winks. 

I blush and go back to studying.

Maybe we’llbe the ones sexiling Annie and Finnick soon...


	3. Chapter 3

We only have sixty miles to travel from Panem University to our hometown, but it’ll take at least six hours at the rate we’re going. We haven’t even gotten to the freeway yet and we left an hour ago. I could _walk_ faster than this.

But if I have to be stuck in day-before-Thanksgiving traffic, I’m glad it’s with Peeta. He lets me pick the radio stations but I try to make sure it’s something he likes too because I’ve just discovered a new thing to love about him: his off-key singing. His rendition of Sam Smith’s Stay With Me is making me smile so much my cheeks hurt. 

And then there’s the added bonus of getting to hold his hand across the console since the car isn’t moving anyway. I wish the car were _really_ parked so I could kiss him.

As the song fades out, I ask, “So how did you get a parking spot on campus anyway?” With the number of students who attend Panem University, it’s almost impossible for anyone living on campus to get one. 

“Oh, it was easy,” he says, “I just put down my family’s bakery back home as my current place of employment. So, if anyone asks, I’ve been driving down there a few times a week for work.” He smiles at me and I laugh. I can’t help but be impressed.

“We really haven’t been taking full advantage of this car,” I say. “Imagine actually leaving campus during the _week_.” 

“That’s true,” Peeta says. “We could actually go see a movie outside of the student union.” 

“And make out in the back row…” I suggest.

“Well,” Peeta laughs, “if that’s what _you_ want to do.” He gives my hand a squeeze and raises it to his lips to kiss my knuckles. 

I smile at him. Being stuck in traffic really isn’t so bad.

                                          -------------------------

 **Me** : How’s your day going so far? Are you ok?

 **Peeta** : Yeah, Mom’s surprisingly calm this year. Which is weird, since Thanksgiving is stressful for everyone.

 **Me** : Oh good. Do you want to come over later?

 **Peeta** : Yes please :) I’ll let you know when I can get away.

“Is that Peeta you’re texting?” Prim asks. “Tell him I say hi and that I’m excited to see him tomorrow!”

“He might be coming over tonight, Prim, but I’ll tell him,” I say, and I do, which delights both Prim and Peeta. It’s cute how happy Prim is for me. And she’s happy that _I’m_ happy, not just that I have a boyfriend.

Thanksgiving is simple in the Everdeen house. It used to be a big deal when my father was alive, but now it’s mostly just me and Prim while our mother works extra shifts at the hospital. She actually took the day off to be with us this year though. 

We don’t do the turkey thing since Prim is a vegetarian, but my mother bought frozen chicken breasts for the two of us, which is just as good. And the rest is pretty traditional: mashed potatoes (instant), green beans (canned), stuffing (instant), and cranberry sauce (canned). It doesn’t take long to prepare really and then after twenty minutes of eating, we pack it all up to be consumed later and turn on the TV for our traditional marathon of all the Friends Thanksgiving episodes.

My mother makes popcorn for us even though we’re all so full, but when it’s ready we all manage to find room in our stomachs for it. I can’t resist popcorn.

Around nine o’clock, my mother heads off to work for the night shift and Peeta comes over. He gives us cookies that he baked and decorated himself, completely winning over Prim and earning a kiss from me. 

Prim tells him excitedly about school and her friends and, ever the conversationalist, Peeta asks all the right questions and laughs at the right moments. It’s strange, how it makes me feel to see them together like this. Like two different parts of my life--of my heart--fitting together. 

So after Prim goes to bed, I take Peeta by the hand and lead him up the stairs to my room, shutting the door quietly behind us and pushing him gently down onto the bed. 

Peeta looks surprised but doesn’t say anything. I climb on top of him, kissing him on the corners of his mouth until he stops smiling long enough to kiss me back properly. Which he does, making me feel warm all over.

I run my hands under his shirt, over the smooth planes of his chest and he groans softly. “Can I take this off?” I whisper. Peeta nods, sitting up and removing it in one quick motion. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him flush against me, and run my hands over the muscles of his back. He feels so strong and _big_ beneath my small hands, I want to touch every inch of him. 

I push him back onto the pillows and kiss him all down his chest, swirling my tongue around his nipples and sucking them into my mouth before continuing my quest all the way down to the edge of his pants. I look up at him with a mischievous grin for a moment and then trail my lips back up his chest, dragging my lower lip along. 

“Katniss…” he groans. I love the effect I’m having on him. It’s intoxicating. I cover his mouth with mine, biting at his lips. I settle my hips over his and rock against him. He gasps and flips us over, being careful not to knock my head into the wall. “My turn.”

Peeta grasps the bottom of my shirt in his hands and hesitates. I nod at him encouragingly, sitting up and raising my arms over my head. He smiles and removes my shirt, trailing his hands along my sides as he goes, making me shiver.

He tosses my shirt on the floor and stares at me silently as I remove my bra. Never has anyone looked at me like this: as though I were made of starlight.

His hands grip my waist tightly as if reassuring himself that I’m real. I twine my arms around his neck and whisper encouragements in his ear. That he can touch me. That he’s the only person I’ve ever wanted to bare myself to, body and soul. 

His hands cover my breasts and his lips whisper my name into my neck like a prayer. 

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” Peeta says, resting his forehead against mine. His thumbs absently brush my nipples and I shiver. 

“How long?” I whisper.

“ _Always_ ,” he says. For a moment, I wonder how that’s possible. We’d never really spoken until just a few months ago. But then I remember all the times I’d catch him looking at me in school. That time he saw me without a lunch and handed me three dollars like it was nothing, only to find out later that it had been his own lunch money. He’d gone without to make sure I wouldn’t. 

“Oh, Peeta,” I say and press my lips to his. I take his hands in mine and guide him to the edge of the bed without breaking the kiss, and when I do, he finds me kneeling down before him. 

“Katniss…?” I trace the button on his jeans with a finger in answer and he groans, nodding. I slowly undo the button and slide down the zipper. Peeta’s breath is coming faster and when I pull at the waistband of his boxers and his erection springs free, he curses under his breath. 

I grip the base of him in my hand and wrap my lips around his tip, running my tongue along his slit. His hands slide into my hair, gripping my head and ever so gently nudging me to start bobbing my head. I do, grateful for the direction, and hollow out my cheeks and begin to suck. 

Peeta grows harder in my mouth as I find a rhythm. I run my free hand up to graze his thigh, brushing him lightly on the upstroke and scratching him through his jeans on the downstroke. His hips start to rock slightly against my mouth and I moan, delighted by his reactions, which he answers with a low moan of his own. 

I look up and see Peeta’s head thrown back, his mouth hanging open, his naked chest heaving with panted breaths, and his right hand clenching the bedding beside him in time with his rocking hips. My core pulses. I didn’t think doing this would have such an effect on me. This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

I pump my hand around his cock faster, focusing my mouth on his tip, sucking it hard between my lips and swirling my tongue around it. 

“Katniss...wait,” Peeta groans, but I don’t slow down. “I’m gonna... _fuck_.” I move my hand on his thigh to his stomach and scratch the skin below his belly button. 

“Move now if you don’t want me to--oh _god_.” And then his whole body is shuddering, his cock pulsing, and thick, warm liquid fills my mouth, which I immediately swallow. 

Peeta collapses back onto the bed, spent, and I pull up his boxers and fasten his jeans for him before snuggling up to his side on the bed. He wraps an arm around me and I revel in the feel of my breasts pressed against him. 

“Wow,” Peeta says, laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, poking the tip of his nose when he looks at me.

“Nothing,” he says. “I’m just happy.” 

“Good,” I say, kissing his shoulder. “Me too.”

“Did you want to me to…?” he trails off.

“Another time,” I say. “I just want to lie like this right now.” 

We settle back against the pillows, pulling the sheets up over us. I fall asleep in his arms, the way that I have for the last month, but it feels newer, better, after what happened tonight and the added skin contact between us. 

All too soon, Peeta wakes me, whispering that he needs to be getting home and that he’ll see me tomorrow. I accept his kiss groggily, rolling over with a quiet snore and going back to sleep.

When I wake again later, I find a text from Peeta on my phone. It says _Always_.


	4. Chapter 4

To no one’s surprise, at dinner, Peeta’s charms, good looks, and future plans to run his family’s bakery make him the perfect boyfriend in my mother’s eyes. When he offers to do the dishes afterward, she practically swoons.  


After Peeta leaves, I head up to my room to work on a paper that’s due Tuesday. I’m about thirty minutes into it when my mother comes into my room and suddenly, out of nowhere, I’m worried she’s going to talk to me about sex. She’s a nurse, so we’ve had variations of the talk over the years, but never this one: where there’s an actual person in mind that I could be having sex with. 

“Katniss…” she begins. I cringe and stare at my bedspread. If I don’t look at her, maybe she’ll go away. And then we don’t have to have this conversation. “I want to know you’re being safe. You can always go to the health center on campus to get the birth control pill--”

“Mom, we’re not having sex!” I exclaim, finally raising my eyes to meet hers. I feel my cheeks heating, but I keep going, determined. “But if we were, I’d know what to do, okay? You’ve given me a lot of good advice over the years.” There, that should end this conversation, right? Reminding her that we’ve already talked about safe sex. 

“Okay,” she says, nodding. “But I’d really feel better if you’d take this.” And then the worst possible thing happens: my mother holds out a box of condoms. 

No. No no no. _No!_

I screw my eyes shut tight and cover my face in my hands. I’m not doing this. How did she even know what size to buy? Did she run out after dinner and stare at all the condoms at the drug store, trying to guess how big my boyfriend’s penis is?! I don’t even know what size he is and I’ve actually _seen_ his penis. Ugh!

I hear my mother set the box of condoms on my bed and sigh. “If you ever need to talk, Katniss...Just call me.” And with that, she leaves, shutting my door behind her.

I drop my hands and open my eyes, warily looking at the box of condoms. Regular-sized, okay, that’s not too embarrassing. Extra-lubricated. _Gross_! I feel like I’m going to be sick. I’m about to toss them across the room when I think better of it, sigh, and put them in my purse. 

Well...I don’t know. I hadn’t planned what happened yesterday with Peeta either. Better safe than sorry. 

  


The next time I see Peeta is on Sunday, when he picks me up for the drive back to campus. I feel like I should bring up the condoms, but I don’t know how to do that, or if I even want to when we’ll be stuck in the car for a long time if it gets awkward. 

I decide to bite the bullet when we’re pulling onto the freeway. “So, my mom gave me a box of condoms.” 

“W-what?” Peeta sputters. He shoots me a look out of the corner of his eye, but remains focused on trying to get into the carpool lane, so he can’t look at me fully. 

“Yeah,” I say, my cheeks heating, “after you left on Friday, she came into my room and gave them to me. On the plus side, she likes you, so she’s not worried about you as a person. Just, you know...that you might impregnate her daughter or give her an STD.” 

Peeta laughs. The carpool lane opens up and he merges into it easily. “I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing in her position, but wow, this is really embarrassing.”

“God, I know,” I groan. “My face turned tomato red while she was talking to me, it was awful.”

“I can imagine,” Peeta says. I look over at him and see he’s blushing too. “I actually, um, bought some condoms too.”

It’s my turn to sputter now. “W-what?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I just figured...if things were going to continue the way they did the other night--not that they have to!” He looks at me worriedly. “But just in case they did…” 

“Better safe than sorry,” I say, nodding. 

“Right,” Peeta says, releasing a sigh of relief. Was he worried that he didn’t ask me first? I don’t mind. If anything, I’m glad. 

“What--um, what size did you buy?” I ask, biting my lip. 

“Um...regular. Why?” 

“I just...wanted to make sure the ones my mom bought would... work. She bought regular too,” I say. 

Peeta shoots me a look, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open comically. “Yeah, um...that should...that should work.” He rubs the back of his neck. My heart fills with affection for him that this is how he reacts to my implication that we would be using the condoms--and more than one box. 

“Have you...um…” I hesitate. _Come on, Katniss_ , I think, _if you can’t ask the adult questions then you shouldn’t be having sex._ “Have you been tested recently?”

“I...haven’t,” Peeta glances over at me. “I’m a virgin.”

I blink hard. I didn’t think I’d expected him to be more experienced than I am until this moment. “Me too.” I admit. 

Peeta smiles sweetly. Traffic has slowed to a crawl, so he reaches across the console and grabs my hand, entwining his fingers with mine. I lift our joined hands and press a kiss to his knuckles,  delighting in his shiver. 

I run down my mental checklist. We seem to have covered all of the important pre-sex things I can think of...but one.

“I’m not ready to have sex now. But...soon,” I say carefully.

“Soon, huh?” He smiles at me crookedly.

“Soon.” I can't help but grin back.

  


The promise of _soon_ hangs in the air that night as we lie together. I lie awake in his arms as he snores quietly, clenching my thighs together for relief, to no avail. It’s hard to remember quite why I want to wait when I can feel Peeta hard against me. 

But I want to be in love with him before I take that step. My emotions were running high the other night with him, and I had felt that I’d loved him, but now I’m not so sure. 

Professors offer a distraction the next day in the form of reminders of upcoming paper due dates and final exam study guides. Finals are only two weeks away. They seem so much closer now that we’re on the other side of Thanksgiving.

Peeta and I don’t have any of the same classes, but we go to the library together every day and help each other make flashcards. We’re exhausted at the end of each day, but I feel like we’re making progress in our studying. 

Finnick and Annie start joining us too, and it’s strange to think how little time we’ve been spending with them lately. Peeta and I have been in our own little world. I’ve missed them. 

One night, Finnick and I find ourselves alone at the study table while Annie and Peeta get snacks for us from the vending machine. 

“Finnick?” I ask. My palms are sweaty and I wipe them discreetly on my jeans under the table. 

“Yeah?” He looks up from his textbook and raises an eyebrow at me.

“When did you know you loved Annie?” I hear the squeak in my voice and fix my eyes on a spot on the wall just over his shoulder, but I don’t miss his smile.

He leans toward me. “It wasn’t right away. We were friends first and then…” he spreads his arms as if indicating the inevitability of it that he can’t explain. “She crept up on me. I didn’t feel it coming on until I was in the middle of it, and then it was like I couldn’t imagine not loving her.” 

I nod. I don’t know if that helps me sort out my own feelings, but I’m glad he didn’t know right away either.

“You’ll figure it out,” he says. “Don’t worry.” 

I nod again. “Thanks, Finnick.”

“Anytime.” 

Mainly what I feel all the time these days is stressed out. It’s worse when I’m not studying, because then I feel stressed about not studying on top of everything else. It’s like finals have wrapped my chest in a vise and I can’t breathe or think about anything else. 

Peeta gives me shoulder massages and makes tea for me with his electric kettle that he’s technically not supposed to have in his dorm room and I feel so appreciative of him. 

“You know what we need?” Peeta says.

“What?” I ask.

“A night out. Let's take my car and go out on Saturday. Like a date. We need a night off from all this studying.”

I don't know if the stress squeezing my chest will let me enjoy it, but I nod. I think we've been working too hard. And if I do some studying during the day, then there's no reason not to go out. 

“Okay.”

  


I wear the only dress I brought with me to college: a light blue frock with a sash around my waist. Annie curls my hair and I even put on a little mascara. 

So when Peeta knocks on my dorm room at six o’clock, I hurriedly take the two steps from my desk to the door and open it. He wears a light blue button down with dark blue jeans and I smile because we match.

He holds his hands behind his back and for a few seconds we just stare at each other, eyes wide in wonder. “Hi,” I say finally. 

“Hi,” Peeta says, laughing. “You look beautiful.” He kisses me briefly and then holds out a small bouquet of lilies. “For you.” 

“They’re beautiful,” I say, and they are. I don’t know where he would’ve gotten them, he probably had to leave campus to get them...My heart swells at the gesture. But… “I’m sorry, I don’t have a vase.”

“I know,” Peeta smiles and holds out a vase. I blink. He thinks of everything. I fill the vase up with water from the drinking fountain in the hallway and set it on my desk to arrange the flowers inside it. The finished product looks lovely and I turn to Peeta and smile again.

“Thank you,” I say. 

“You ready to go?” He asks. 

I nod. He takes my hand and as we walk to the car together, I realize the nervous feeling in my stomach isn’t just due to this being _our_ first date, but that this is _my_ first date. I’ve never been on one before. 

I know it’s going to be wonderful though. Everything with Peeta is. I smile to myself when he’s not looking. What I’m feeling isn’t his business.

Yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Follow me on tumblr at safeinpeetasarms :)


	5. Chapter 5

“So where are we going?” I ask as we leave campus behind. The streetlights cast a yellow glow on Peeta’s blond curls, giving him a halo that blinks in and out.

“Just some restaurant I know,” Peeta says, failing to conceal his smirk. I shake my head, but I’m only a little annoyed. I don’t like not knowing where I’m going, it makes me feel trapped, but I trust Peeta. I know he wouldn’t take me somewhere I didn’t want to go. 

Thirty minutes later, when we pull into the parking lot of a familiar outdoor shopping center, I think I’ve figured it out. “The Cheesecake Factory?” I ask.

Peeta shakes his head, turning the car off, “No. But we can get dessert there afterward if you want.” 

“Hmm I’ll keep my options open,” I say, climbing out of the car as Peeta does the same.

I reach for Peeta’s hand as I come around to his side of the car, and he holds out his hand with a smile, entwining our fingers together and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Chilis?”

“No,” Peeta laughs. “Just come on.” He leads us out of the parking lot and through the shopping center, winding our way through the many cart kiosks selling phone cases and t-shirts, until we reach a restaurant I hadn’t noticed in the few times I’d been to the shopping center.

“Here?” I ask. Peeta nods and opens the door to The Flour Shoppe for me. It’s small, with mirrors on one wall to make it appear larger. Beautiful blue-shaded lamps hang down from the ceiling, casting a blue light over the tables filled with people. But what overwhelms me is the smell of warm baked goods that look so tantalizingly close behind the glass of the counter. And suddenly, I know where we are.

“Peeta is this…?”

“Yeah, this is Marc’s place,” he smiles shyly at me. I didn’t realize his brother’s restaurant was in such a popular spot, or that it would have so many customers. Peeta had mentioned how betrayed his family felt when Marc left their family’s bakery that had been passed down to the eldest Mellark son for generations, but also how glad Peeta was too because it meant he could carry on the tradition himself. 

“Peeta!” A woman with bright orange hair hurries over and hugs Peeta close. “It’s been so long! How’s school?” 

“Good, good,” Peeta nods with a smile. “Effie, I want you to meet someone. This is Katniss, my girlfriend.” He wraps an arm around me and I smile at Effie. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, smiling and extending my hand.

“This is the girlfriend?!” She cries, shaking my hand vigorously. “She’s gorgeous! But, you kids didn’t come here to talk to me, you came here to have dinner, so I’ll show you to your table.” 

Effie leads us to a table in the corner of the restaurant, and Peeta and I sit opposite each other. “I’ll be right back with your menus,” she says and disappears.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“She’s Marc’s night-time manager,” he says with a smile that I know means he’s fond of her. “She runs everything during the rush hours. I expect Marc would’ve gone out of business without her.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” Peeta leans forward across the table, spreading his hands out in front of him. “He was pretty young when he wanted to start the restaurant, but he had a clear vision of what he wanted and he had all of his recipes that he'd perfected over the years and Effie really believed in him. She's been really great to Marc.”

I place my hands in Peeta’s outstretched ones. “I’m glad he had her then. And you too.” He squeezes my hands in his. 

Effie returns then with our menus and a young boy she introduces as our waiter for the evening. Peeta orders for us (“Trust me,” he says, “You’ll love it.”) and then we’re left alone again. 

Peeta looks so handsome tonight in his light blue button-down shirt that brings out his eyes, his soft blond waves falling across his forehead, the way his face softens when he catches me staring. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“You did,” I say, blushing. “You look good tonight too.”

Peeta laughs. “Thank you, Katniss.” 

“You know, Prim had a lot to say to me about tonight,” I smirk, knowing he’ll find this story funny.

“Oh yeah?” He leans forward, already smiling.

“Yep.” I rest my elbows on the table and lean toward him. “I talked to her on the phone earlier and she told me not to stay out too late because I need to study all day tomorrow, and to watch out in case Nice Boy Peeta turns out to be Not Nice.” 

“Oh? And what do you think you’ll tell her?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“I’ll tell her you were a perfect gentleman, of course.” I shrug. “She doesn’t need to know everything,” I joke.

Peeta laughs. “And what am I supposed to have done that makes me not a perfect gentleman?” He asks in mock horror. 

“Nothing yet,” I say. I meant for it to be a joke but my voice came out too raspy and now Peeta’s staring at me, his pupils widening and I can feel my heartbeat pick up.

Peeta opens his mouth to reply when he’s interrupted by our food arriving. He got us two bowls of lamb stew with dried plums that turns out to be fantastic. I can’t eat it fast enough. When I’m done, I stare longingly at Peeta’s half-empty bowl and he laughs and spoons some of his into mine. I eat it greedily and ask Peeta what his brother put in it, “Crack?” I ask. “It’s so addictive.” 

Peeta chuckles. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? But no, Marc’s just a really good chef. It’s nice that he finally has people to appreciate his recipes now. Before, I was his guinea pig. You don’t even want to know the things he made me try.” Peeta shudders. “But he learned, and now, he’s here.”

“Who’s here?” A voice asks. I look up and see a slightly older version of Peeta, though less stocky and without Peeta’s strong jaw. 

“Marc,” Peeta says. “Hi. This is Katniss, my girlfriend.” He gestures at me. “Katniss, this is my brother, Marc.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say politely, reaching out my hand for a shake.

He grips my hand hard and shakes it enthusiastically before returning it to me. I rub my hand under the table. “Well, it’s so great to finally meet you after Peeta’s talked my ear off about you for the last ten years,” he laughs. 

I raise my eyebrows at Peeta and he blushes, shaking his head. “Thanks, Marc,” he says.

“What? It’s true!” He claps Peeta on the back. “No sense covering that up. But anyway, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to get back to the kitchen. I hope you guys enjoyed the food and don’t worry about the bill, it’s on me.” He heads back to the kitchen and I turn my gaze to Peeta.

“So...ten years?” I ask.

“I thought...you knew that.” 

“I guess putting a real amount of time on it is different from ‘Always.’” He smiles. 

After a moment, Peeta pushes his empty bowl away and stands up, holding his hand out to me. “Wanna get out of here?” He asks.

I take his hand.

 

“So what started it all?” I ask once we’re in the car, truly alone at last.

“Well,” Peeta turns toward me, taking my hands in his across the console. “I heard you sing the national anthem at a school assembly in the first grade and you captured my attention in a way no one else has since. Your bravery, your--But, do you want to hear what I liked about you then or what I love about you now?” His thumbs caress my wrists and it takes a moment for me to process his words.

“Wait--you love me?” My heart skips prematurely. I silently tell it to wait for his answer.

He kisses my forehead once, softly, and breathes the words into my hair, “I do. I’m so in love with you, Katniss.” I feel the words settling on my head, then down my spine to my heart, which eagerly beats his love out to the rest of me, slowly spreading until I feel it everywhere.

He has crowned me queen of his heart and I don’t know if I can live up to the title, or if I deserve it, but I will try to. I will try not to leave his heart in ruins.

I open my mouth to speak, but Peeta beats me to it, “I don't expect you to say anything.”

“Peeta, I've never felt this way about anyone before. I’m still figuring it out. You had a bit of a head start,” I joke. 

He smiles and brings my hands to his lips for a kiss. “Thank you, Katniss.”

“For what?”

“For opening your heart to me.”

“It was always open for you,” I whisper. His eyes widen and when he leans in to kiss my lips, I meet him halfway. 

We’ve kissed before, but this time it feels different. As though Peeta’s lips kiss my soul. We start out slowly, tenderly, savoring the moment and the feel of each other, but it quickly turns more aggressive. I pull Peeta closer to me by the back of his neck and he moans into my mouth. I bite his lip. He sucks on my tongue. I yank at his shirt. He digs his nails into my hip. I pull back suddenly for air and rest my forehead against his. We’re both breathing heavily and we share a light laugh about how crazy the last few minutes were.

“Wait...we didn’t get dessert,” I say. 

“Oh...well I have another idea,” Peeta says with a smirk.

“Oh yeah?” I kiss his neck and he winds his fingers through my hair. 

“Yeah, I was thinking--if you want,” he stops suddenly and I stop kissing his neck long enough to look him in the eye. He takes a deep breath, “We could go back to my dorm...and I could go down on you.” 

My eyebrows raise and I feel my face turning red, but warmth pools in my belly and I know that that’s exactly what I want. “Okay.”

 

We’re on each other the second his door closes. “God I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Peeta says against my mouth. 

“Tell me,” I whisper back. My lips move to his jaw while my fingers work at the buttons of his shirt. 

Peeta moans. “Too long. I thought I was gonna die when I saw you in that dress tonight. I kept picturing my head under it.” 

“Well then,” I lead him over to the bed and sit down on the edge of it, urging him to kneel before me. He does eagerly and grabs my ankle, pressing a light kiss to it before trailing kisses up my leg. He pauses at my knee to take off my shoes and then resumes his work up my thigh, ducking his head under my dress. 

Just before he reaches the top of my thigh, he stops. “Are you sure?” He asks. His warm breath hits my already burning core and I moan.

“Yes!” I’m already panting in anticipation, and I nudge his head closer to my core with my hand. He bites at me gently through my underwear and then pauses and I groan, his hands skimming the length of my legs before resting at the edges of my underwear and oh so slowly, pulling them down and off me.

And then Peeta’s mouth is on me. I hadn’t known what to expect, but oh this is exquisite. Peeta is murmuring how this is so much better than he’d imagined, how good I taste, how wet I am, but I’m not listening. All I can hear is the blood roaring in my veins and the sounds that escape my mouth: moans, whimpers, and more than anything else, Peeta’s name. 

Peeta sucks at my clit and moans and the vibrations against me threaten to undo me. I chance a glance down at him and the sight of his head bobbing up and down under my dress as he sucks at me, his body shaking with his efforts and his moans. I come at the sight, my whole body quaking as waves of pleasure wash over me one after the other and just when I think it’s done, it keeps going until I’m well and truly spent. I flop back onto the bed and Peeta helps me replace my underwear, cleaning up the mess we made before joining me on the bed. 

“Oh god, that was so good,” I whisper and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Peeta laughs. “I definitely, uh, did too.” 

I stare at him uncomprehendingly. “You were so sexy, and you tasted so good...I just...got off on it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, but I remember what it was like when I went down on Peeta and I understand. I kiss him again.

“Well,” I say. “You can definitely do that anytime you feel like it.” 

“Oh, I plan on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support of this story! I hope you liked this chapter. Sorry you had to wait so long for it! Come follow me on tumblr at safeinpeetasarms :)


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